New Adventures in the Mushroom Kingdom
by Minman083
Summary: A handyman from New York and his skeptical brother unwillingly become the saviors of a magical world in this retelling of the Super Mario Brothers mythos.


**New Adventures in the Mushroom Kingdom**

**Chapter One**

Mario stepped on to the somewhat ratty bus and had to stop himself from shaking his head at the sorry individuals with whom he was forced to share space. The trips from Atlantic City were often full of dejected losers, but this voyage in particular came with a surprisingly unfamiliar cloud of anger that Mario couldn't wrap his mind around. If you asked him, a well-to-do handyman living in Brooklyn, New York, gambling was more of a game of chance to be enjoyed than a means to instant riches. That said, coins seemed to gravitate into Mario's hands at a rate that frustrated his peers, so who was he to understand the plight of the average gambler? Taking a seat a few paces away from the restroom, Mario lowered his trademark red hat over his eyes and attempted to nod off.

"Excuse me," grumbled a deep, female voice that had many decades worth of experience wafting off of it. The elderly woman waited a few moments before jabbing Mario in the shoulder with her cane.

"What?" asked Mario, who barely looked up at the woman.

"This is my seat. You have to move," the woman responded.

Mario caught a whiff of the lady's perfume, which seemed to take its cues from tear gas, and thought of abandoning the seat then and there. He soldiered on anyway.

"I'm trying to remember when this bus had assigned seats," said Mario only somewhat looking up at the woman, who recoiled in anger at the fresh comment.

"I'm in this bus every week. You know this. You see me," said the woman, annoyed.

"Okay, but I saw you in front this morning," retorted Mario, who was trying to withhold a cough brought on by the perfume.

"Front in the morning, back in the afternoon.. This is nothing new. How did you get so far in life with that attention span of yours?"

Mario thought about it for a moment and realized that what the woman said, outside of the zinger at the end, wasn't exactly far away from the truth. After failing to haul a witty comment out of the ether, he finally got up and moved seats. The change brought him close to an even older man who was reading a horse racing magazine. Thinking about the distance that he was from the restroom, it is by sheer coincidence that Mario suddenly had to pee. Not wanting to even look in the direction of the woman, Mario decided to hold it in for as long as possible.

The trip between Atlantic City and Brooklyn had been taken so many times by the group of 30 on the bus that there was no longer anything remotely impressive about it. Buildings blended into bridges which morphed into the skyscrapers of New York City, and the only thing keeping it interesting was sudden bouts of bad traffic.

"The horses were running like they had three broken legs," said the man closest to Mario who finally took his nose out of the magazine. The man was known as Nate, and he was looking right at Mario.

"Were they?" asked Mario.

Nate nodded. "It was ridiculous. The only reason I walked out with any money is because I tossed a few bucks at a long shot that won by the grace of God himself. You still winning?

"Well, I still have my cap,"

"That bad?"

"The slot machines were tight today."

"I thought you were more a poker guy?"

"I tried to branch out.. It didn't work out."

"Stick to the tables, man."

"Maybe I should take up horse racing."

"You don't want to know what happened to the last person who tried to step foot on my turf."

Mario smiled and wondered why he hadn't spoken more to Nate, who was a pretty fun guy. "Hey, man. How long have you been in New York?"

" I'm a lifer," answered Nate.

"Good, uh, I've got a question about the city."

"I've got answers."

Mario paused for a moment. "What do you know about what's underground?"

"There are quite a few unused stations down there."

"But nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing is ordinary in New York."

"I mean 'sliding down a massive pipe and into a place where the sun has a face' out of the ordinary."

Nate laughed. "Depends on how high you are. What? You saw something like that?"

"No," Mario lied before attempting to change the subject via mentioning a somewhat controversial race.

The bus came to a halt in front of a liquor store that also acted as a deli for those who were feeling experimental. Stepping out into the night are a number of people including Mario, who walked into the liquor store and greeted the Middle Eastern man who stood behind the counter. That man went by the name Albert, which obviously wasn't his real name.

"Mario! How was the casino?" asked Albert with a wide smile and a thick accent.

"You don't want to know, man," responded Mario.

" How about this? You ride free on the next bus."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch, my friend. It's payback for the job."

"Toilet still flushing?"

"Like a champion."

Mario bought a large bottle of juice before hopping on the subway and heading towards his apartment a good twenty minutes away. Mario's apartment was on the ground floor of an old building that was too much of a rat hole for the amount of money that was expected of its tenants. As if by coincidence, Mario's small dwelling was beside the maintenance closet which held the tools he used as the building's all purpose handyman. Mario gave his surroundings a survey, unlocked his door, and entered his apartment.

The apartment was no bigger than a small hotel room, which was all Mario needed at the moment. Upon walking into the place, Mario was greeted by his moderately sized bed, which faced a small television that Mario turned on right away. Mario was surprised to see the video for "White Lines," by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, playing on the screen. With the prominent bass line of the song filling the drab apartment with groove, Mario walked over to a small table with a single chair pulled up to it. The table was full of mail which Mario thought of sifting through. After opening a single bill, Mario decided that he was over it all and sat on the bed to be in front of the television. A far too glamorous group of rockers were singing whatever ballad. Mario didn't care much for it. Moments later, Mario picked up a large, empty satchel that had been unceremoniously dumped on the ground and walked right out the door.

Mario walked a few steps to the maintenance closet door and opened it after giving himself a good frisking for a set of keys. He flipped a nearby switch and the closet was somewhat filled with harsh light. Mario closed the door behind him and locked it from inside via a deadbolt. The closet was quite large with far too much room for the uninteresting instruments and supplies that sat on a rusty shelf. Mario walked past the shelf to a wretched door-like object that looked as if it was hastily planted into place one day. Was that far from the truth? No. Mario hauled open the mangled thing and on the other side was what could only be called a large, green pipe. Mario checked his satchel, sat in the pipe, and allowed a rapidly increasing, current of air to suck him into whatever lied beyond.

A number of minutes later, Mario slid out of the pipe and into a place that made absolutely no sense in relation to what Mario had left. For what was not the first time, Mario found himself in a bright, cheery environment that looked as if it was plucked right out of a child's overactive imagination. Below Mario's feet were somewhat long blades of grass that seemed to sway to a non-existent rhythm. In the far distance were lime green hills, and above them were a set of complicated platforms that rose, fell and spun. In the sky was a bored sun that exposed its temperament through, for whatever reason a vaguely human face. The place had made Mario nervous since he first stumbled into it, but that didn't matter much as he was never there for too long. He always had a goal, and this one, as always, was right in front of him. Suspended in the air by some otherworldly magic just a few paces away from the pipe was a large crate that held something that Mario not just wanted, but depended on. Mario ran towards the crate, jumped into the air and gave it a swat with his hand. Upon impact, a large number gold coins and a mysterious, large key were ejected from the crate and on to the floor. Mario quickly picked the coins and key up and placed them in his satchel. Not even ten seconds after Mario collected the spoils, what appeared to be a white and red mask fazed into whatever reality that Mario found himself in every week. The mask suddenly became animate and flew towards Mario sporting an angry look. Mario scrambled in the other direction, but the flying mask was much too fast and blocked his escape.

"What do you know of this place, thief?" asked the mask in a hissing, ethereal voice.

Mario said nothing. He was quite confused at the whole thing.

"Speak and you will not be killed where you stand. What use do you have of my key?"

Mario had no idea what to say to this creature."I first came here a few weeks ago."

"How?"

"I came in though a pipe."

"What do you know of the pipes and how to use them?"

"I don't."

"Where do you come from?"

"Brooklyn."

"Where is Brooklyn?"

"In New York."

For a moment, the mask looked confused."Return my key to me."

"No."

"Then you will die."

Giving the mask no opportunity to follow through on its threat, Mario punched the mask with such force that it briefly lost the ability to fly and fell to the ground. Mario stepped over the mask and sprinted towards the pipe. He was a mere arms distance from the pipe before the mask fazed itself right at the mouth of it. Mario, decided not to stop, and crashed shoulder first into the mask, sending the two of them tumbling into the pipe and coming to a crash landing in the maintenance closet back in Brooklyn. Upon impact with the floor, the mask shattered. Mario then closed the door that led to the pipe and shoved everything he could in front of it.

Mario tried his best to go to sleep, but that wasn't happening in the face of what he experienced on the other side of the pipe. What was a constant, common noise became more hissing masks outside of the apartment door. Mario took a glance outside of his window every five minutes though it was more than obvious that nothing was chasing after him. When the paranoia hit critical levels, Mario swung out of the bed and dialed his brother, Luigi, who answered after an inordinately long time.

"Hello?" answered Luigi in the groggiest of voices.

"Hey Luigi. It's me, Mario."

"It's almost 4 in the morning. Please don't tell me that I'm going to have to write another check for you."

"Not this time."

Luigi sighed. "What do you want?"

"I've got a thing going on over here and I can't sleep."

"What is this 'thing' you are talking about?"

"I'll show it to you later in the evening."

"You don't owe anyone money, do you?"

"Nothing like that. I just can't sleep. I feel terrible."

"Are you drunk?"

"When's the last time that happened?"

"Relapses do happen."

"Luigi. Please."

Luigi said nothing for a number of long moments.

"I've got space on the couch."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Just don't make too much noise on the way in," said Luigi before hanging up.

Mario hung up the phone and thought of how much of a cold, mechanical individual that his brother was. Unfortunately, that robot was all Mario had against the forces of whatever it was that was out there...or not.


End file.
